Lily Inn was not just any ordinary lodging; it was the most famous inn in Windel, renowned for its luxurious accommodations and top-tier service. Owned by the governor of Windel himself, it was a place where only the wealthiest merchants, nobles, and influential figures stayed. It was common knowledge that securing a night at Lily Inn was no simple feat, and yet, Luke’s escort had arranged for him to rest here without hesitation.

The leader of the escort knights, a tall, broad-shouldered man clad in sturdy armor, stepped forward and addressed Luke. “Sir, you’ll be resting here for the night.”

Luke gave a brief nod before stepping off the carriage. His eyes scanned the grand entrance of Lily Inn, taking in the finely polished wooden doors engraved with intricate golden patterns. The warm glow of lanterns illuminated the building’s exterior, and the faint sound of laughter and music drifted from within.

As soon as Luke entered the inn’s lounge area, he was greeted by an atmosphere of wealth and comfort. The floor was made of polished mahogany, gleaming under the soft golden lights of crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. The scent of rich oak and freshly brewed ale filled the air, mixing with the faint aroma of roasted meat wafting from the bar area.

To the left, a grand reception counter stood where a beautiful young woman with striking blue hair diligently managed the registry. Behind her, shelves stacked with neatly arranged ledgers and scrolls gave an air of meticulous organization. Directly across the room was a lavishly decorated staircase, its golden railing winding upward to the inn’s private quarters.

In the center of the lounge, plush sofas and elegant tables were arranged in a way that encouraged guests to relax and converse. Several patrons, dressed in fine attire, sat enjoying drinks while engaged in quiet discussions. On the far right, the bar area was alive with energy as waiters served a variety of drinks, and customers laughed and talked with animated expressions.

Before Luke could fully take in the ambiance, a young waiter hurried toward him and the knights, his movements quick yet slightly shaky. The man had short brown hair and a neatly pressed uniform, though his hands fidgeted nervously as he approached.

“W-Welcome to Lily Inn,” the waiter greeted with a slight bow. “Would you like me to arrange a table for you, or will you be registering a room for the night?”

Luke raised an eyebrow, slightly perplexed by the waiter’s anxious demeanor. His eyes flickered toward the man’s trembling hands and the way his gaze kept darting between Luke’s chest and the knights accompanying him.

Following the waiter’s line of sight, Luke finally noticed the insignia pinned to his chest—the crest of the Timberdell family, a finely crafted silver carp. His knights bore the same insignia on their armor.

‘Ah, so that’s why he’s so nervous,’ Luke thought with amusement. The Timberdell household held significant prestige, and it seemed their influence extended well beyond their own city. A mental note of appreciation for Viscount Garhan crossed his mind—his reputation alone was enough to command respect even in a free city like Windel.

Before Luke could respond, the leader of his escort knights stepped forward. His voice was calm but firm as he addressed the receptionist. “No need to be on edge. We are here to arrange a room for Sir Luke, the candidate of Viscount Garhan this year.”

Though his tone was polite, the weight of his words was undeniable. The blue-haired receptionist immediately grasped the significance of the guest she was receiving. Her eyes widened for a brief moment before she composed herself, stepping out from behind the desk to offer a respectful bow.

“Sir Luke, it is an honor to host you. Please allow me to personally see to your arrangements.” She then turned to the knights and assured them, “I will immediately arrange one of our VIP rooms for Sir Luke.”

With a graceful wave of her hand, she activated a small glowing crystal set into the desk. The crystal pulsed with a soft blue light as she spoke into it, summoning the room service staff. “Prepare the VIP suite on the third floor at once.”

Luke watched the exchange with mild interest. While he wasn’t paying for the room himself, he noticed one of the knights handing over ten 1 sil coins. The amount covered not only the VIP accommodations but also dinner for the night and breakfast the following morning. The seamless nature of the transaction spoke volumes about how well-prepared his escort was.

Satisfied with the arrangements, Luke strode toward one of the plush sofas in the lounge area. As he sank into the velvety cushions, he let out a content sigh, reclining slightly as he enjoyed the softness beneath him. The journey had been long, and while he wasn’t particularly exhausted, he certainly appreciated a bit of comfort.

Just as Luke was beginning to relax, a sudden series of heavy footsteps echoed through the lounge. The confident strides, combined with the distinct clinking of armor, drew his attention. He half-opened one eye and glanced toward the source of the noise.

A young man, seemingly around Luke’s age, entered the inn, accompanied by a knight clad in armor. His presence commanded attention, not only because of his regal bearing but also due to his striking purple hair and sharp black eyes. His attire, a dark noble ensemble, was embroidered with silver accents, radiating both wealth and arrogance. However, what stood out the most was the insignia on his vest—an eagle crest, marking his affiliation with a distinguished noble house.

Luke subtly shifted his gaze to the knight accompanying him, who bore the same eagle insignia, further affirming their noble lineage.

The young noble scanned the lounge area with a scrutinizing gaze before locking eyes with Luke. His lips curled into a taunting smile as he confidently strode over. Stopping in front of Luke’s sofa, he tilted his head slightly, an amused glint in his eyes.

“Hey, scoot over,” he commanded, his tone carrying an air of superiority.

Luke, still in his relaxed posture, met the noble’s gaze with a deadpan expression. Without a word, he shifted slightly to one side, making room on the sofa.

The purple-haired noble’s smirk faltered, momentarily replaced by confusion. He had expected defiance or at least some resistance, yet Luke complied without so much as a remark. His surprise wasn’t unfounded—after all, there were multiple unoccupied sofas in the lounge. His demand had been a clear assertion of dominance, a test of sorts, and Luke’s indifferent reaction was not what he had anticipated.

“You really don’t have a backbone, huh?” The noble sneered, crossing his arms as he eyed Luke. “The rumors must be true then.”

At the mention of ‘rumors,’ Luke’s expression remained neutral, but his mind sharpened with realization.

Ever since the class selection ceremony, his lackluster stats had been put on display for many to see. Not to mention the absurdity of a candidate receiving a sponsorship of 85,000 sils a year despite such terrible stats. There was no doubt that his reputation had already spread like wildfire among those who kept tabs on the summoning process.

‘Hah… my life just keeps getting more difficult,’ Luke sighed inwardly, already anticipating more confrontations like this in the future.

However, unlike the usual arrogant noble encounters he had expected, there was something different about this one.

Luke had been slowly growing accustomed to his ‘Instincts of the Weak’ ability over the past few days. While it allowed him to see status screens, he had also noticed subtler effects—such as being able to sense a person’s intent, albeit faintly.

And right now, those instincts were telling him something interesting.

‘He’s testing me,’ Luke realized. ‘This isn’t just some random brat throwing a tantrum. He’s intentionally trying to gauge my reaction.’

Before Luke could respond, one of Garhan’s knights stepped forward, his hand resting lightly on the pommel of his sword.

“Refrain from acting out, young lord Damian,” the knight warned calmly, his tone composed but firm.

The name clicked in Luke’s mind. Damian… a noble from a rival faction, perhaps?

At the intervention, Damian clicked his tongue and took a step back, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Tch, you guys are no fun.” He shot Luke one last smirk, paired with an exaggerated wink, before sauntering toward the reception counter, his hands casually tucked behind his head.

Luke exhaled slowly, his blank expression masking the irritation bubbling within.

‘Yikes, I don’t want that to happen again.’

Just then, the blue-haired receptionist approached with a polite yet slightly nervous smile. She held out a small card to him. “Sir, your room has been prepared.”

Luke accepted the card, immediately recognizing it as similar to hotel key cards from modern Earth. He arched an eyebrow at the efficiency—perhaps the receptionist had rushed the process to prevent further escalation. Her slightly damp forehead suggested she was trying to avoid trouble.

‘Well, I have no interest in unnecessary conflicts either.’

Without further delay, Luke followed the assigned escort and one of Garhan’s knights as they ascended the stairs.

The third floor of the inn exuded an air of exclusivity, with only four rooms separated by a spacious, well-lit corridor. His assigned room was situated on the left side of the staircase.

As the escort unlocked the door and stepped aside, Luke bid a brief farewell before stepping into his suite. The door clicked shut behind him, sealing him in the quiet, luxurious space.

The room was nothing short of grand. Dim ambient lighting cast a warm glow on the intricately carved wooden walls. The plush carpet muffled his footsteps as he moved toward the lavish king-sized bed positioned against one side of the room. A set of finely crafted chairs and a table adorned the opposite side, next to a tall, glass window overlooking the cityscape of Windel.

Despite the elegance, Luke merely set his belongings down and moved toward the bed. With a book in hand, he leaned back against the soft cushions, his fingers idly flipping through the pages.

The grandeur of the room barely fazed him. Compared to the luxurious accommodations he had back in Timberdell mansion, this was still a step below.

For now, his priority was knowledge.

As the night deepened, the only sound in the room was the rustling of pages being turned, while outside, the lively ambiance of Lily Inn continued undisturbed.

Knock Knock!

The subtle sound of knocks resonated in Luke’s drowsy ears. He wasn’t asleep. In fact, he had woken up an hour ago, but for some reason, he couldn’t shake off his sleepiness.

I should read in moderation. Less sleep means less focus. He covered his mouth with the back of his hand as he yawned. “Yes, I’m coming,” he replied as he stood up. He was wearing a loose white shirt and pajamas, his hair a jumbled mess.

Walking towards the door, he placed his hand on the doorknob. As he pulled it open, he was greeted by the sight of a petite girl standing just outside. The receptionist, small and slim, barely reached his shoulders. Her presence was meek yet professional, though she momentarily stiffened when their eyes met.

"Eek!" she squeaked, instinctively taking a step back. Her tiny heart pounded like a drum, and a rosy flush crept onto her cheeks. In that moment, her mind betrayed her, pulling forth images of dashing male protagonists from romance novels. Luke’s messy hair, crystalline blue eyes, and half-awake expression only fueled her imagination.

"What can I help you with?" Luke asked, his voice calm and indifferent.

The receptionist quickly gathered herself, lowering her head to avoid his piercing gaze. "T-The breakfast buffet has been prepared downstairs. It will end in two hours," she informed him softly.

Luke blinked, a little surprised. "Ah, is that so? I didn’t know this inn had buffets. Can I get my food sent to my room instead?" He gestured to his frilly pajamas. "As you can see, I’m not exactly presentable."

The receptionist hesitated before shaking her head. "I’m sorry, dear guest. Even VIPs must follow the breakfast model. I hope you understand."

Luke scratched the back of his head, feigning disappointment. "It can’t be helped then. I’ll be down after a bath."

He offered her a polite smile before shutting the door, exhaling a long sigh.

Fuck this sleepiness.

Dragging himself to the bathroom, he was momentarily surprised by the modern amenities inside. A proper water tap, connected pipes, and even a shower with adjustable knobs.

So only the super-rich get magic-based water systems, huh? He thought back to the floating showerhead from Garhan's mansion.

Dismissing the thought, he undressed and stepped in. The warm water cascaded over his body, washing away the last remnants of drowsiness. As he caught his reflection in the mirror, he paused.

His body—it looked different. More defined. His muscles, though not overly bulky, had taken on a sharper shape.

Am I hallucinating?

Frowning, he ran a hand over his torso. The changes weren’t drastic, but they were noticeable. He hadn't been here long enough to see such a transformation. Maybe it's just my imagination. Shaking his head, he dismissed the thought and finished his bath.

After dressing in a fresh pair of clothes, he neatly folded his used pajamas and tucked them into his suitcase. His wardrobe was limited, mostly travel clothes. Since he'd soon receive academy uniforms, so he had no need to overpack.

Giving himself a final check in the mirror, Luke combed his hair and dabbed on a subtle amount of perfume. Satisfied, he descended the stairs to the ground floor.

As soon as he reached the bottom, his eyes landed on a familiar but unpleasant figure. Standing near the dining area, waving at him with a cheery expression, was Damian.